No More
by ChameleonCircuitx
Summary: Takes Place during rent, possibly post rent. It all Started with a wet dream.
1. Chapter 1

It was cold as hell, the only thing keeping them warm being their poor excuse of a fireplace. A can filled with posters and screenplays. Rodger was still shivering, yet somehow Mark managed to fall asleep. Rodger had looked up after sometime of making halfhearted attempts at writing a song, and saw Mark, his left arm and leg dangling off of the couch, his right arm holding a paperback to his chest. He laughed quietly and gently set my guitar down before walking over to his friend, taking his book from his hands and putting it on the coffee table. He then lifted Mark's leg, putting it couch. "Rodger…" Mark whispered. Rodger looked up, expecting to find that he'd woken him, but he was still asleep. The rocker slowly turned, hoping the floor wouldn't creak. After all they'd been through, he believed his friend deserved a simple nights sleep if he could get one. But before he'd even taken a step he heard his name again. Was it just him or did that one sound like… a moan? He quickly turned, looking down on Mark, who gripped the cushions, burying his head into them as well as he groaned softly. Was he really still asleep? Rodger found himself stepping closer. He was so quiet, but so… erotic. He arched his hips ever so slightly, scrunching his face. Rodger couldn't believe he'd just considered his friend- his _male_ friend "erotic". Was his breath catching? Was he really leaning even closer?

Marks cheeks were flushed, his lips parted. He gripped the cushions tighter and let out another moan.

"Rodger, st-top!" Rodger gasped. He found himself on the couch at Rodger's feet, leaning over him. When had he gotten so close that he could feel Mark's breath on his face? When had he started wanting to kiss those lips? And more importantly, how fucking long had Mark been having wet dreams about him!

"Rodger!" His hips lifted once again, meeting Rodger's. The musician's eyes widened in horror. He was sure this would wake his friend. But instead it was the phone that did that. Rodger was still as stone as the phone rang once, twice, before Marks eyes snapped open and he gasped, staring wide eyed as his friend lay over him, straddling his hips.

"Rodger, what are you doing?" He gasped, short of breath. He looked his friend up and down but not for long. The phone reached it's last ring and both boy's voices rang out on the machine, saying "SPEAK!" and after the beep a familiar voice sounded.

"Chestnuts Roasting…"

Rodger was already off of Mark, the phone to his ear. "C-Collins!"

Mark could see his friends' flushed cheeks. His own were hot as well. Still-frames from his dream flashing through his head as he watched his friend speaking to their ex-roommate on the phone. Images of Rodger touching him, kissing him, grinding him… He quickly put his thoughts to the back of his mind before he regretted them. Then again, he already did. Rodger held the phone to his ear, sneaking quick glances at Mark before hanging up the phone and turning to his friend.

"I- It's Collins. Where's the key?

"Collins is here?" Mark sat up, smiling and went to the balcony. Sure enough his friend was there. Mark tossed down the key. Collins caught it. When Mark turned he saw his friend leaning against the couch, arms crossed over his chest. Even though he turned away before Mark could truly see, he was sure Rodger had been watching him.

"Rodger.." Mark stepped away from the balcony and back into the loft. "What were you doing?" Rodger looked away, stepped over to his guitar and plopped down into the chair, throwing the instrument onto his lap and picking at the strings, seemingly absently, though he was really struggling to seem casual as he blatantly ignored Mark's question. How could he answer when he didn't even know the answer himself?

"Rodger--" Mark went to press the issue, but Rodger cut him off.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?" Rodger hoped this would embarrass is friend enough to shit him up.

It worked. Mark's breath caught in his throat. He talked in his sleep? "_fuck!", _he screamed into his head.

"Where is he?" He said, quickly changing the subject. Rodger simply shrugged his shoulders. He tried seeming non sealant, when in reality, he knew if he spoke he'd stutter. Why was he looking at Mark this way? Or rather, avoiding the impulse to look at Mark that way. All because of a stupid dream? A couple of moans? No way. He was straight. He _is straight. He loved April, hadn't he? Yeah, we was straight. And what about mark? He'd had Moureen. It was just a dream. A stupid dream._

And Mark told himself the same thing as he watched his friend strum at his guitar_. It was just a dream. _


	2. Chapter 2

There had been long, awkward silence filling the small apartment, interrupted only by a less than pleasurable meeting with Benny, yuppy scum of the Earth. Now that he, and his Range Rover were gone, the two New Yorkers hadn't the slightest idea what to say to one another. Rodger sat at one end of the home they shared, plucking at the strings of his guitar, wishing the images of Mark, moving beneath him, whispering his name, would clear from his head. He'd been through enough this year, and he was sure that the last thing he needed was to add "Mark Porn TV" running through his head 24/7 to the long list of suck. Sadly, though, the strings could only distract him for so long, and images were shoving their way back to the forefront of his mind, begging to be seen. He plucked the string to hard, his fingers slipping as he was berated by images, and cursed loudly.

Meanwhile, Mark sat at the opposite end, cleaning his camera lens, and worrying about just how much of his dream he'd verbalized. _"Did he hear me ask him too… did he hear me when I.. oh, God" , _He thought. He jumped when Rodger swore, dropping the tiny rag he'd been using. He'd be surprised if the lens was any cleaner now than it had been before he'd tried to distract himself in scrubbing it anyway. As if he ever let the thing get dirty in the first place, and now with his hands shaking so frantically, he was positive they'd be useless to him had the screen actually needed cleaning.

He glanced back at Rodger, for the hundredth time, and once again found that the rock star was refusing to make eye contact, his entire body angled in such a way that he might avoid having to look at the roommate he was currently fantasizing about. But poor Mark had no idea what was running through his head. To him, his insane verbal dreaming had completely destroyed their friendship, and he needed to get out of there before he said or did anything to make it worse. He hopped up from his seat, abandoning his camera in favor of his gloves, and made his way to the door.

Rodger glanced over at him, and cursed himself for doing so. His eyes couldn't help but travel over the film makers body, so covered that doing so was useless.

_Right, it's the middle of winter, and we have no heat. Duh. _

"Uh, I'm going to go look for Collins…" Mark said, noticing that Rodger had finally looked at him.

"Want to come with? I figured we could grab a bite to eat, catch up, or whatever." Why was he offering this? The last thing he wanted was to walk beside Rodger, sit across from him.. he could barely make eye contact with him right now, let alone conversation.

"Zoom in on my empty wallet" was all that Rodger had to say. Mark worked up a half smile, sensing the hostility, only further confirming that he should never take a nap again. He shifted awkwardly.

"Touche" Mark replied, shifting a little more, not knowing what else to say. "Ah, don't forget to take your EZT, okay?" He waited for Rodger to reply, but when nothing came, he finally left, grabbing his bike and heading down to the mean streets of the city. Rodger watched Mark leave. Once he was gone, he exhaled with so much force, he probably could have knocked down a bus. It was getting hard to play the chords, to make the sounds that were spinning around in his head, and finally he just gave up. He made he way to the roof, and made hollow attempts at clearing his head. _Maybe I'm getting to worked up" _he thought. _Anyone'd think of their roommate naked if they'd just been in that situation" _He reasoned with himself, feeling just a little better, until he realized that he'd been treating Mark like crap since the incident. He sighed. He needed to apologize for that. He rubbed his temples and made his way back to their Dingy apartment just as a knock came to the door. _Mark! Great, I can apolo- Oh. _Rodger took in the sight of the gorgeous young woman standing on the other side of the door. Maybe he wouldn't be thinking about Mark naked much longer after all..


End file.
